


Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

by CONSTANTlNE



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Bisexual Spencer, Clueless Hotch tbh, Drug Abuse, Heteroflexible Hotch, Las Vegas, Lawyer Hotch, M/M, Magician Spencer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CONSTANTlNE/pseuds/CONSTANTlNE
Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ends up drunk in Vegas after his divorce, he meets a magician by the name of Spencer Reid.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This Chapters Playlist: Mirror; Lil Wayne, A Case Of You; James Blake, Drowning Shadows; Sam Smith

How many nights has it been since he'd had a proper drink? God, it felt like forever since he'd felt the harsh burn of the whisky down his throat. So much had changed since then.

_'Look at you, beginning to follow in your father's exact footsteps. First a lawyer and now an alcoholic.'_

His mind tugged at him as he sat at the bar.

_'No. I deserve this. A drink once in a while won't hurt me.' 'Did you deserve what Haley did?'_

And that is why he was sitting at this busy bar, in a casino, in Las Vegas. Sin City. Anything could happen.

After a case he had in Saint George, he drove the two hours to Vegas. He was exhausted emotionally and physically. Though it had been weeks since Haley left with Jack, Aaron has just had time to mourn the downfall of his family. He was moving out as soon as he got home. It all seemed so unreal. The day before they left had been full of nostalgia. Aaron had a two-week suspension after a harsh case with a suicidal teenage girl. It went terribly wrong. Haley thought it as an opportunity to reconnect them. It had been a blissful night but he got a call in the morning, and made the choice.

His job or his family.

He hoped he made the right choice. Now sitting here, made him question his decision. He loved Haley, he loved Jack, he really did, but he was dedicated to his job. It had felt as if he'd become his father at the time though he knew it wasn't true. He was better than him. He'd always be better than him. He wasn't going to let himself become him.

"Tough night or tough life?" The bartender asked as he slid past him to take the glass of the guy next to him.

Aaron looked at him. "Hard to tell," he answered honestly.

The bartender laughed. "Been down that road more times than I needed to."

"Yeah, me too," Aaron looked down and looked into the glass, slightly seeing his reflection as he gently swayed it left to right.

"Need more?" The man offered.

"No thanks, I'll take the check," He looked back up.

"Really? You barely drank a glass, you sure?"

"I'm sure," Aaron answered as he looked back down at his faint reflection in the whisky.

"Whatever you say," The bartender shrugged.

Aaron took his wallet out and laid a ten on the bar, leaving before the bartender could get there with the check and stuffed the faux leather wallet back into the inside pocket of his black blazer.

There was so much to do in Vegas other than drink. He knew a little wouldn't hurt but he couldn't risk slipping into alcoholic depression. He should just sleep and try to find a place. But he needs a distraction. Anything would be better now; gambling, lap dances, late night breakfast. Whatever. A crowd that had gathered earlier clapped with amusement at some guy who was too young to have a cane. It was hot in the building, too hot to be wearing a suit, but that didn't stop him, the pimps and the wannabes of this city from wearing one. God, there were so many gamblers with suits on. Someone could mistake him for one.

Another crowd groaned loudly with sappy disappointment at a nearby roulette wheel table. Maybe that could be fun? He didn't even know how to play. He wandered around the second floor. Just gambling and good-old lottery machines. Third floor. Crowed strip club. Fuck it, there was nothing else to do that he was interested in. Back to the first floor and a good glass of scotch. Drinking for a night didn't make you an alcoholic. Right? He'd just gotten divorced and didn't want a bankrupt notice as well. A lap dance was too soon and the last resort was clawing at his throat.

Before he could make it to the stairs, he felt someone grab his shoulder and a warm breath behind his ear.

"Hey, tall, dark and gorgeous," followed by a giggle. He turned around to a brunette girl in a black and gold lingerie. "Are you looking for fun tonight?" She asked with a seductive smirk spread across her glossy lips. Aaron's immediate response was to back away and say no thank you.

"No, not tonight," Aaron said. "You're not really my type," That part slipped. He had just thought about Haley's ash blonde hair and mentally slapped himself. The brunette frowned and walked away. For a night to release frustration, he was building more frustration.

He walked back downstairs and sat back at the same bar. The bartender noticed and grinned. "Changed your mind?"

Aaron nodded.

"What'll it be?"

"Strong scotch."

"Any brand in particular?"

Aaron shook his head. The bartender left and shortly returned with the dark brown liquid and Aaron practically gulped it down.

"I'll bring you the bottle. Seems like you're gonna have a long night."

Aaron couldn't agree more. He couldn't wait to leave Vegas now. It was all just a mistake coming in the first place. He thought it would be a chance to loosen up for a change but that was a difficult task. If Rossi were here, Aaron would be wasted and be walking around with money he doesn't have. He is glad Rossi isn't here but instead eight hours away in Sacramento revisiting an 'old friend.' A little part of him wished Rossi were here to get him off of his pretentious ass. Vegas was already crossing his comfort zone and Rossi would keep pushing.

Goddamnit, why was he thinking about what Rossi would do? He _knows_ what Rossi would do. Why won't he think for himself? Aaron knew he wasn't young and that was good. He couldn't possibly fuck up now.

"Here you go," the bartender brought the bottle of Maker's Mark.

"Thank you, could you sell me a bottle of bourbon as well?" Aaron asked the bartender. The older man grinned.

"Best not say I sold you our best Jim Beam bourbon," the man flashed Aaron a smile. "Just helping a brother out."

"I appreciate it." Aaron genuinely smiled. He laid a fifty on the counter and nodded at the old bartender as he pressed his wallet back into his blazer, getting up with the two bottles in both hands. If he was going to get drunk tonight, he was going to make sure he didn't do any more stupid shit or drag anyone into it. He was going to lock himself in the room with the two bottles as company.

He was going to have to climb thirteen flight of stairs because there was no way in hell he was going on a lift in a casino, for many reasons, but there are a few that stood out and one was riding in a cramped space with strangers. He made his way to the stairwell, and upon entering, there were one too many couples sucking each other's faces off. It smelt of cigarette smoke, cheap cologne and unflattering perfume along with a faint hint of sweat. He hoped no was fucking in the stairwell.

Some couples looked at him, others were too busy doing other things and all the moisture made him break a sweat by the fifth flight of stairs. The concrete grey walls seemed to go on forever until he finally made it to the twelveth floor. He ventured through the long hallways trying to find the door that read 19I. He heard different sounds varying from loud sex to laughing to crying and vomiting from within the walls of some of the rooms along the way. He'd probably be worst in his drunken state.

After wandering what seemed to be the entire floor, Aaron finally found 19I. His knuckles were white from gripping the glass bottles for over half an hour and he set a bottle down as he pulled out the card. He slid it in the slot briefly and the door unlocked. He slid the card back into his front blazer pocket and picked up the bottle of bourbon off the floor and walked into the room. It was bigger than he expected.

And it had two queen sized beds. He could go and complain to every customer care department that they'd send him to just to change rooms, or he could push the beds together and probably die of alcohol poisoning. The second option was most likely best.

Aaron placed the two heavy bottles on the table next to a dresser. He removed his blazer and tossed it on the long couch next to the window wall left of the beds and loosened his tie. After, he pushed the beds together which was actually much more difficult than it should have been and laid right in the middle. As he laid tired, he rose his right hand above his face to check the time on his wristwatch. It was only midnight and he was falling asleep. This room was expensive so he was going to have a good time.

Aaron forced himself up and grabbed the bottle of scotch. He turned the tin cap and the bottled opened followed by a strong smell that Aaron could already feel down his throat. He took a long gulp out of the glass bottle, holding the thin neck. As soon as he stopped, he felt as if he were going to vomit. It had been too long since he last drank strong scotch and it wasn't the best idea to drink it as if it were warm milk. It felt too lonely despite the thousands of lives that were in the same casino. He took another long gulp. The hot burn in his throat felt amazing.

Aaron looked at the bottle in his hands. Already half empty.

He felt numb. Pathetic. He still didn't regret his choice. But what the hell was this feeling of worthlessness? It was annoying and it ached at his chest. He felt just like his father at the moment. And for a second, he thought he had won. But he hadn't. Aaron was going to do everything he could to stay in Jack's life, and now he regretted coming to Vegas. Another long drink. The room was getting hotter with each drink until no more drops came out of the Maker's Mark bottle. He tossed it aside and picked up the bottle of Jim Beam, quickly twisting the cap off and desperately gulping from the thin opening. It induced the vomiting he knew was coming. He ran to the bathroom with the bottle in hand and vomited in one of the sinks followed by another gulp. He vomited mid-drink and accidentally slammed the bottle against the porcelain, breaking the glass. He instantly recoiled and looked at his bleeding, splintered hand. Goddammit, he was a fucking mess. He steadily rinsed his hand over the slow running water of the faucet. It was too damn hot in the room.

He looked back at the wristwatch. He'd locked himself in for two hours. The pain and alcohol made him feel drowsy but he had the urge to leave the suddenly cramped room. Despite the heat he was feeling, he grabbed his blazer from the couch and slid out the door.

He made his way to the nearest lift which was cramped as he expected. He couldn't take the stairs, though, he would probably end up killing himself one way or the other.

"Whoa man, you're bleeding," A man in his early twenties pointed out. Aaron weakly nodded and others in the lift had a terrified expression on their face.

The clinic, right.

Aaron stumbled out of the lift once he reached the first floor. It was so hot, that stupid lift ride down made him feel breathless and claustrophobic. He tried to tell himself that he hadn't drunk enough for him to start hyperventilating but one and a half bottles of liquor were one and a quarter too much for him.

He felt as though he had just made it to the front desk of the miniature casino emergency room. He sat in the waiting room which had too many injured people and awaited someone to assist him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter playlist: For Mayor In Splitsville; La Dispute, A Letter; La Dispute, Robbers; The 1975

Aaron must've passed out because he was being yelled at by one of the nurses and the room was nearly empty.

"Hey man! You bled all over the floor," the young man groaned.

Aaron forgot he was bleeding. With all the noise and the pain, he still crashed. 

"Someone clean him up."

Aaron sighed. 

"Lacerations to the hand, no matter how small, should be examined thoroughly to exclude injuries to tendons, nerves, or joints."

He was about to was about to wipe the drool off his face with his bloody right hand when he hears that voice. He instead runs his left thumb off his chin and looks up. 

A man who appears to be in his early twenties limps up to the nurse. He has a cane in his right hand but looks awfully young to be limping on one. Aaron recognises him as the man whom people were surrounding earlier. He is wearing a green and white plaid shirt under his black blazer. The chest pocket holds a peculiar gold pin and his shirt and shoes match the rest of his outfit perfectly along with the glasses. His long light brown hair is a mess and some sticks to his forehead with sweat. 

"He should've thought about that before hurting himself like that," The nurse sighed as he left the room and shortly returned with a rag. "Just sit over there," He pointed towards an opened door at the end of the room. 

Aaron stands, dizzy as hell, but he manages.

"What did you cut yourself with? Did it leave any puncture wounds?" The young man asks.

"Uh, glass," Aaron replies with a raspy voice. "And probably, most likely."

"Can I see?"

Aaron looks at the man whom looks genuinely concerned and turns his palm so the injury is visible. The young man looks over it without touching it, moving around at ridiculous angles.

"You won't need stitches but you'll have a lot of splinters that'll need to be removed with tweezers, thought not all of them will be removed. Some naturally peel from the skin and get pushed out by the blood."

Aaron looked at his hand and back at the young man. 

"May I ask what happened?"

Aaron clears his throat, eyes still locked to those of the man. "Bottle mishap," he replies.

"Oh, of course. Do you work here or live around, I don't recognise you."

Aaron furrowed his brow. "Do you recognise everyone in Vegas?" He asked sarcastically.

"Only most of the people who live here and frequent tourists. I haven't seen you before."

"Sir, please come in,"

Aaron looked over in the direction of the voice. A woman with a clipboard was calling him from the door at the end of the room.

"I'll still be here when you exit, I can tell you have a lot of questions from your uncomfortable expression. My name is Spencer, by the way," the man waved.

Aaron nodded, still dizzy in his intoxicated state and walked towards the woman.

"Have you been drinking?" She asks as he enters. Aaron nods and she sighs.

"What happened?"

Aaron clears his throat again. "A bottle broke in my hand."

His hand was numb from all of the alcohol wipes the doctor used to clean the blood and excess glass. Aaron exited the room, his hand wrapped thoroughly, and saw the young man fumbling with a coin. He looked up and saw Aaron. He stopped playing with the coin and sat up. Aaron almost involuntarily walked up to him.

"So do you do business here?" The man whom said his name was Spencer asked.

Aaron shook his head. "I just took a trip."

"In a suit? What's your profession?"

Aaron was starting to get the impression that this man thought he was either a pimp or a gambler.

"Prosecutor for the District Attorney's office." Aaron said and shifted his weight.

"Oh. You work for the DA."

Aaron nodded. The surprise was evident on Spencer's face.

"That makes sense, you don't look like you work here."

"Although the suit made you think otherwise," Aaron replied.

"Yeah, it did," Spencer nodded. "Lawyers usually avoid being recognised."

"What happened to your leg, if you don't mind me asking," Aaron asked suddenly and he wished he could've stopped himself. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that, it slipped. I'm a little drunk right now," 'shut up.'

He heard Spencer laugh. "I tried to play the hero," he simply said. 

Aaron nodded. Someone of Spencer's size could easily get hurt if they tried the hero demeanor. 

"Spencer Reid." The familiar voice of the doctor called. 

"I have to go. Maybe I can show you around Vegas some time," Spencer offered.

"I'm only here until noon," Aaron said disappointed. He didn't know if it was genuine disappointment or dismissive disappointment. 

"Before noon, then."

Aaron pulled his wallet out and took out one of his business cards.

"Maybe we could talk about the tour when it's not the middle of the night," Aaron said, handing Spencer the card.

Spencer took the card and briefly looked over it. "Sure thing, Aaron," Spencer smiles and waves him goodbye.

Aaron opens his blazer and is about to put his wallet in his pocket when he feels a light poke. He pulls the item out of his pocket to find that it's a card. 

Dr. Spencer Reid; Magician & Mathematician

A magician. A doctor. A mathematician. 

Who the hell is this Spencer Reid? Could that be an alias? He seems way too young to have a PhD in anything. Perhaps a student whom likes reading, based on the way he spoke to Aaron. And a magician. Ah, yes, the cultural diversity of Las Vegas, Nevada. Your friendly neighbourhood magician. How did he get his card in his pocket? Aaron was more drunk than he thought. 

But he was quite intrigued. A doctor magician mathematician as a tour guide. Ridiculous and just like Vegas.  

Aaron puts Spencer's card in his wallet before placing it back in the blazer pocket. He checks his wristwatch. It is nearly four thirty. He takes the lift up since there is only a few others at this time at night, morning, whatever. Drowsy as hell, he stumbles down the halls and into the room, putting the card back into his chest pocket. He swiftly shuts the door and takes the blazer off, tossing  it back on the long, black couch, loosening his tie and removing his shoes as well. Almost immediately he jumps on the bed. The light may still be on, but exhausted, he falls asleep instantly.

A sound he can't describe wakes him up. He slowly opens his eyes and sees the sun is all ready out. He hears the sound again in his drowsy state and realises that the sound is coming from him. He'd expect his phone to be waking him up, but instead it's himself, his loud snores. Haley has said he snores when he drinks, but he'd never heard himself until now. He was completely wasted last night. Sleeping alone, especially while hammered, was miserable. Hearing himself snore, it doesn't get worst than that. Would it be any different of he had Haley next to him?

She'd probably be mad at first, then laugh and wake him up with a soft kiss. He'd wipe his drool away and they would spoon, and she would talk about Jack and silly things he has done over the past week and how much he's grown and misses his dad. And Aaron would sigh and tell her that he loves them both very much and that he misses them too. 

He would say that he's really sorry about seemingly choosing a stupid job over his family and how he wants to stay forever in her arms with Jack as their dream and how they will both be there to see him grow and teach him together.

But this is cruel reality and none of that will happen. Things will never be the same and he was learning to accept that. To accept a lonely bed in the morning. If Haley left, no one will stay. 

Aaron got up, aware of the fact that he reeks of alcoholic depression. He didn't bring any spare clothes or toiletries. Despite knowing that he'll have to wear the same dirty suit and bloody bandages, he slowly starts unwrapping his hand. He throws the bandages on the sink and examines the damage. The blood still looked fresh. He was so stupid, how could that happen, especially on accident. He had to write with that hand for fucks sake. 

Angry at himself, he starts the water for the shower and undresses, tossing the clothing on the same long, brown couch. He checks the water with his left hand, confirming that it's warm and gets in, shutting the shower door.

Aaron stands there, letting the warm water hit his back. He was drowsy, especially in the warm water.

He was completely and utterly distraught. All he could think about is Haley and Jack. He felt the water burning his right hand. He wasn't sure if any of the options would've been correct. He had been working hard to get where he was. But he threw away Haley's love. And now she hates him. And now she's gone. With Jack. He knew it hurt Haley just as much. They'd been high school sweethearts, but he had a dream before he met her, and she wasn't involved.

Aaron quickly finished showering, it was difficult with the condition of his hand but he stepped out and grabbed a towel. He smelt of cheap soap and soon cheap, musky cologne. He walks past the mirror and briefly makes eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. He looks terrible. He feels terrible. Numb.

He finished buttoning up his white shirt and started on his tie when he hears the vibration of his cellphone. He walks towards his blazer which is still on the black couch, searching it until he finds the small device. The number is unknown but he answers anyway.

"Aaron Hotchner," he speaks.

"Hey, it's Spencer,"

Aaron recognises the voice. He had forgotten about Spencer and the memory is still foggy.

"Magician?" Aaron asks and Spencer chuckles.

"Yep, that's me. I hear you found my card."

"It was impressive to sneak it into my blazer while I was drunk," Aaron replied. He didn't see him do it and it really amused hammered Aaron.

"It was magic," Spencer says and makes a noise that sounds like 'poof.'

The goes quiet for a few seconds. Aaron doesn't know what to say. He doesn't even know Spencer besides that he's a doctor, a mathematician and a magician, apparently.

"Are you still in Vegas?" Spencer asks.

"Yes, I was just getting ready to leave, though."

"Oh," Spencer breathes, disappointed. "Do you want to take that tour before you leave?"

Quiet.

"Or are you having to leave immediately?"

"How long will it take?" Aaron asked. Maybe Spencer needed money? It would be rude to turn down his offer, especially since he has Aaron's card.

"Well, since we're in the Voyager Casino in the middle of Las Vegas and all of the attractions and monuments spread east and west from the centre, approximately 96 minutes by foot. Obviously we wouldn't be able to see every monument and attraction. 100 steps per minute is the average walking speed in Vegas."

Aaron simply nods, knowing Spencer can't see him. He was keeping up the act for tourists, wasn't he? It only takes an internet search to figure out the average walking speed for anything, not a PhD.

He still found the ruse interesting.

"Sounds reasonable," was all Aaron could think of saying.

"Do you want to meet somewhere? The second floor, downstairs?" Spencer asked.

"It doesn't matter."

"Maybe I can show you a magic trick on the second floor?" Spencer offered.

"That would be interesting."

"All right, second floor it is. Bye, Aaron."

"Goodbye, Spencer."

Aaron finishes with his tie, thinking. Spencer certainly didn't sound like a tour guide and he couldn't tell if he was being genuine or not. Would there be other people? Aaron couldn't pin it, but Spencer had a tone with him that didn't sound professional. It sounded nervous and friendly, like they've known each other before. Aaron knows he's heard that behaviour before but couldn't quiet figure it out. Despite feeling a bit self conscious about not bringing a spare change of clothing, he grabbed his blazer and walking out the door, putting his arms through the sleeves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've said before, sorry if it's really bad so far, the beginning is always the most boring and difficult to write. Thank you so much for the positive feedback, though!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Playlist: Death of A Bachelor; Panic! At The Disco, Vegas Lights; Panic! At The Disco (p!atd is really relevant to this story tbh) 
> 
> And really quick note: I don't know shit about poker so don't sue me for using incorrect terms or information,,,,,,

Aaron fixes his cuffs on his way down the stairs. The stairwell is now filled with men talking. Beer seems to be a popular drink at at this time of day. Some men occasionally look at him, others hide 'secret' possessions.

Upon pushing the heavy door open and finally arriving at the second floor of the building, Aaron notices that despite it being ten in the morning, gamblers never seem to rest. It is as full as it was last night, probably, anyway. He looks around and sees the desperation in the faces of those who sit around the poker tables. He walks around trying to find the young man with the cane. Many people don't look up as he passes by, too focused on the game which their bank accounts probably depend on. Until he walks by a full table, everyone but a young man look anxious. The young man, he immediately recognises, is Spencer. Aaron can only tell he is wearing a blue collared shirt and an uneven, black tie. He is surrounded by people who are dressed in expensive Gucci suits and Micheal Kors dresses. He recognises the face of a woman who stands at the side of Spencer's chair. She is the call girl from last night. Why is she there? It was evident why she was there, actually.

Spencer briefly looks up and meets eyes with Aaron. His smile slowly turns into a grin as he sets his cards down. The people around him start cheering and his opponents slam their cards and then hands on the table, clearly pissed off. Spencer looks back down and grabs the bills that are set down on the table.

He won. 

He stands up, shoving the messy bills into the front pockets of his black slacks. People follow him as he limps towards Aaron. 

"Magic," He says.

Aaron realises his mouth is open. That was incredibly fascinating. It was right on cue and Aaron can't help but grin at Spencer's quirky mechanisms.

"So does that tour start now?" Spencer asks.

Aaron looks at the people behind and besides Spencer.

"Will they be joining the tour?" Aaron asks.

"Nope." Spencer says, the people not caring about what he just said.

"What kind of tour would it be without others, Dr Reid?"

"Compelling argument, but these people here are money dwellers," Spencer says, resulting in some insulted expressions and some people leaving.

"I see, and a gambling doctor that happens to be a magician and a mathematician isn't?"

"Not at all, the gambling doctor magician mathematician has a very good reason."

Most of the people have left.

"What would that reason be?" Aaron asks.

"A magician never reveals his secrets," Spencer smirks.

"That's--"

"That's hot," the brunette who is still there interrupts Aaron. She attempts to lean in on Spencer but Spencer pushes her away. 

"I, uh--I have a thing about germs."

Aaron can't help but laugh and Spencer's face lights up. The brunette leaves, glaring at Aaron, followed by the remainder of the people.

"Are you serious about the germ thing?"

"New Dutch research suggests 10 seconds of lip to cheek contact can translate into 80 million germs moving from one person to the other and shoulder touching just makes me extremely uncomfortable." 

A smile tugs on Aaron's face as well as on Spencer's.

"I like your dimples," Spencer says.

"Thank you," Aaron replies, slightly taken aback but ignores it. "I can't help but wonder: are you really a doctor? Or is it a Vegas alter ego?"

"Of course I am."

"You seem awfully young to have a PhD."

"You're quick to judge, Hotch."

Hotch. Aaron frowns at the use of his nickname.

"Did I offend you, Dr Reid?"

"Not at all, you're not the first."

"You seem genuine, so I'll believe you," Aaron says, honestly.

"Thank you, Hotch."

"Only my coworkers call me Hotch."

"Hotchner?"

"Aaron is good."

"Alright, Aaron. Would you like to take that tour now?" Spencer asks, shifting his weight.

"Of course," he checks his watch. "Before the clock hits one."

Spencer again smiles. There is something about his smile that throws Aaron off. God damn it, what is it? Aaron has seen the curve of the smile before and the features on Spencer's face somewhere before. It's all Deja Vu. It is going to drive him insane if he doesn't figure out Spencer's tone, cheek flush and smile.

"That's more than enough time." Spencer answers, and for the first time, Aaron sees him fidget. "I, um, let's get out of here." Spencer says.

Aaron nods and dreads the fact that he'll have to ride the lift.

As anticipated, the lift is crowded, this ride is filled with more young men and women than the previous. The young women bat their eyelashes at Aaron and he nervously stands next to Spencer. The young man presses the lobby button. Aaron can't decide whether he hates low-key flirting more or high-key flirting more. Thank god the lobby is the first destination. The lift door opens with a ding.

"I noticed how the women looked at you," Spencer says unexpectedly. "I bet that happens a lot."

"I noticed too. It's annoying." Aaron says as the two walk towards the revolving front doors of the casino to exit.

"It takes the average man between 90 seconds and four minutes to realize that a woman is flirting with him."

"Your point being?"

"You noticed in under 40 seconds, meaning it must happen quite often."

They exit through the revolving doors.

"It took you under 40 seconds to notice too," Aaron replies, waiting for Spencer to catch up on the sidewalk. It's always busy in Vegas, street traffic was busy.

"Yes, but I have a PhD in Psychology."

"I'm a lawyer."

"I see now that it wasn't a ruse."

Aaron laughs as the two walk side by side.

"I'm sure pimps study body language as well. A good one, anyway."

"Are you admitting to something, Aaron?" Spencer laughs as well. 

"No, no, just speaking from experience. I get a case ever so often involving a pimp."

"Does the pimp's lawyer ever win?" Spencer asks.

"In my presence? No way in hell," Aaron grins and Spencer laughs.

The rest of the morning passes by as the men talk and walk. Spencer almost dropped his cane multiple times but Aaron helped him. To Aaron it felt more of a Foursquare walk with a friend as Spencer reviewed most every restaurant the two passed by. He also felt he leant plenty of unnecessary facts. He knew Spencer felt awkward but he couldn't tell why. He fidgeted and chewed on the inside of his cheek, and it was all behaviour that he has seen before. He kept repeating that in his mind but that doesn't seem to be working helping him figure it out. Being straightforward was all Aaron could do now.

"Reid, it's almost one," Aaron said as he checked his wristwatch, interrupting Spencer as he spoke of how to tell if someone is a pick pocket thief.

"Right, yes. Um, would you like to go back to the casino now?"

"Yeah, I should hail a cab though, it's going to be a long walk."

"Oh, um, of course," Spencer said, sounding dissapointed.

"You should come along too, you would be limping all by yourself,"

Spencer smiled. "Ah, sorry about that," he nervously laughed, recalling the times when he nearly limped on Aaron.

"What made you think it was a good idea to limp for four miles?" Aaron asked, jokingly.

Spencer seemed lost for words as Aaron observed him.

"I may not be a doctor but I wouldn't recommend that."

"I am, and I'm healing. Exercising after a leg injury can help improve strength, flexibility and range of motion in the injured leg."

"Yes, I know, but four miles is a stretch, no?"

"Not really, no."

A cab pulls in the curb and Spencer walks over to it, waving at the window. Aaron watches as Spencer struggles to open the door and smiles, walking over to open it for him.

"I'm the one who's not limping, you know."

"I know," Spencer limps into the back seat. Aaron follows and shuts the door. "Voyager Casino," he says before the cabbie asks. The yellow vehicle starts moving.

"How much do I owe you, Dr Reid?" Aaron asks, looking at the man a seat over.

"What?" Spencer asks.

"For the tour. It was a different experience and I feel like we've known each other for long, it's one way to feel welcomed in a city of fools."

And at that moment, Spencer starts laughing. Aaron eyes the man, bewildered, furrowing his brow. At this point, Spencer has tears forming at the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard. Aaron sees the confusion in the cabbies eyes as he faintly spots his reaction in the mirror. He is just as confused. Spencer's laughter dies down and he wipes the tears away with his finger. Aaron was irritated. What was he laughing about? It would be better to educate him than belittle him.

"You truly are clueless, aren't you?" Spencer says, making Aaron even more irritated.

"What's so funny?" Aaron asks, frowning and clearly upset.

"You are the most heterosexual male I've ever met in my entire life."

"What?" Aaron asks. He has never felt more confused.

"Aaron."

"Yes?"

The cab stops at the Casino. Aaron opens the door for Spencer and helps him out. Spencer limps a distance from the cab, Aaron still holding the door open so the cabbie won't drive off.

"Call me sometime," he says and winks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep apologising, I can't control it,,, I'm sorry the chapters are short,,,,,,, and really important apology: I'm sorry if the tense keeps changing, I zone out a lot and accidentally change the tense, it's annoying, I know aNd I'm late, please forgive me, I will try my absolute best to make the next chapter really good.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone, I'm posting this chapter early and it's short because I'm going to be busy for a couple of days. And chapter playlist: Alleyways; The Neighbourhood, Long Way Down; One Direction (didn't really think this one through tbh)

Oh. _Oh_. Oh.

Spencer waves Aaron goodbye and Aaron watches him disappear into the building before he gets back into the cab and pays the driver.

He gets out briefly and closes the door behind him. The cab drives off shortly and Aaron watches as it gets lost in the busy, Las Vegas traffic.

Aaron stands at the curb, still attempting to process what had occurred.

_"It takes the average man between 90 seconds and four minutes to realize that a woman is flirting with him,"_

Spencer had said.

Aaron feels embarrassed. Spencer had probably been flirting since the beginning but Aaron hadn't noticed _at all._ The thing was, Aaron doesn't feel humiliated or even remotely angry. He feels embarrassed.

_"You are the most heterosexual male I've ever met,"_

Spencer had said.

Had Aaron accidentally gone on a date with Spencer? All the behaviour Spencer had been displaying hit Aaron like a train. It was almost exactly what a woman did. Flirt. With him. It is an utter shock. This was (probably) the first time a man had ever flirt with him. Should he be flattered? He doesn't know how to react. It is not awkward, was not awkward, though. It is a strange thing to think about. He doesn't even know what to think. Is it funny? Probably.

He grins. And starts towards the garage.

It _is_ funny. He plays the events with Spencer over again in his mind as he walks.

Aaron giving Spencer his card was most likely an accidental invitation. The awkward complimenting a flirt, along with the impressive 'magic trick.' The lift observations a realisation. But why did Spencer proceed to tour him around for four miles?

Aaron searches himself for the keys and pulls them out of his right front slack pocket along with his Motorola flip phone. He flips it open when he reads the front, small screen. Two missed calls from Haley.

He quickly hits the green call button on her contact name and presses the unlock button on the keys, instantly finding the silver Honda.

He opens the drivers door and gets in as the familiar voice picks up.

"I've been calling," she says and Aaron closes the door.

"I know, I'm sorry, I was-"

"Busy? When aren't you busy, Aaron?"

Aaron gulps.

"Anyway, I was just calling because Jessica insisted. Are you home?"

"No, why? Is everything all right?" Aaron asks. He sounds too stressed for his own good. It doesn't make him credible.

"Fine. I just wanted to go pick up some things if you don't mind."

"Not at all, I'm on my way now, you shouldn't have to tell me you're getting things, I'll leave as soon as I pack." Aaron says, nervous as he revs the engine.

"Oh. Okay," is all Haley says.

"I uh- I miss you. And Jack."

"Goodbye, Aaron."

 _Click_.

Aaron keeps the phone held to his ear for a moment longer before shutting it. He feels his eyes water and tosses the phone on the passengers seat. The moisture quickly disappears and he puts the car into drive before exiting the seemingly vacant garage.

All that is happening with Haley feels so angst. What is it he dreads so much? That he'll miss the smell of her hair during cuddles? Her feather-light fingers tracing over him after they've had sex? Or perhaps her laugh, her smile and her attitude. Her personality. His son. Their son. And his little hands and his little feet and his little nose. And his cute confused whines right before he starts crying. And the fact that he won't be there to raise him. This was all surely inevitable. He had been avoiding this topic in his mind for days and now it has caught up to him. And now he is alone. And now he doesn't now what to do. Besides self-loathe.

The car drive back to Saint George is silent and thoughtful. He brings the vehicle back to the Enterprise building and hails a cab to the Saint George Regional Airport.

The four-hour flight back to Seattle is excruciating. By the time the plane lands, it is nearly 20:40. Aaron makes his way back to his own vehicle from the airport to the car park once he fishes his keys out the the blazer pocket. He presses the unlock button and gets into the black Ford. Engine starts, puts on drive, drives away from the airport.

Now that he was in Seattle, it was the same old thing. The same streets, the same buildings, the same routes, the same people, the same job. But it was a different life now. Soon a different house, different feelings, slightly different routine.

His ringing phone breaks his train of thoughts. He briefly takes the phone out of his slack pocket, expecting it to be Haley but instead glances down and sees an unknown number. He looks back at the road immediately as he dismisses the call, putting the phone on the passengers seat.

Fifteen minutes later, he arrives at the house. He grabs the phone from the seat next to him and gets out, locking the car. He walks up the steps the the door, unlocks the door, shuts the door, locks it, types the alarm pin in, locks that. The same things over again. Except this time, there wasn't the sweet voice of Haley welcoming him. Only silence.

He flips the phone open and clicks the green button the the unknown number.

"I- hi," the familiar voice of Spencer almost immediately picks up.

"Hello, Spencer,"

"I wanted to apologise for earlier. I didn't think you would answer, to be honest. Are you-- are you angry?" Spencer asks hurriedly and anxiously.

"Not at all, no need apologise," Aaron replies, honestly.

"Oh, thank you. I would have expected you to be furious. I just, um- like you."

Silence.

Aaron's ears feel warm.

"I'm sorry if that was weird," Spencer breaks the silence.

"I- no. That's fine," Aaron says. "But I'm going through a tough patch right now."

"Oh."

Silence.

"May I ask what's wrong?" Spencer asks after a moment.

Aaron pauses.

"I'm sorry if I asked a personal question, you don't have to answer that, but I also get it if you're not interested," Spencer rushes.

Aaron inaudibly sighs.

"I'm just, going through a divorce at the moment," Aaron answers, feeling awkward.

Silence.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Spencer replies after a moment. "I'm sorry, can we-- can we start over?" Aaron can sense the anxiety coming from Spencer.

"Sure, of course."

Spencer sighs in relief. "Hi, my name is Dr Spencer Reid and I have a PhD in mathematics and psychology and I occasionally work as a magician in random casinos in Las Vegas, Nevada."

Aaron grins. "Hello, Dr Spencer Reid, my name is Aaron Hotchner and I'm a prosecutor for the District Attorneys Office in Seattle, Washington and I occasionally travel around the country because apparently I'm good at what I do."

"Oh, all the way in Seattle? It must have been a long trip to Vegas."

"I was in Saint George for a case, the drive to Vegas was just a 'rest stop.'"

"Do you travel near Vegas often?" Spencer asks.

"It depends," Aaron replies.

Silence.

"I, um- I'd like to continue taking. As friends," Spencer says, nearly stuttering.

"Okay," Aaron simply replies.

"Really? Why?"

"It's not everyday you befriend a magician, Spencer,"

"Oh, um, okay." Spencer simply says.

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah, yes. Of course."

"I have to go now, but you can call me in the morning," Aaron says.

"Yes, definitely. Thank you, Aaron. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Spencer."

 _Click_.

Aaron shuts the phone. Friends. Haley was his only friend. He hates how his mind brings her up all the time. This was about himself, not her.

Aaron removes the bandages from his hand. It was all one big scab now. He wished it would cure overnight. It's not like if anyone would ask him what happened, right? He didn't talk to anyone unless he had to, which is why it was nice to have Spencer as a friend. Why had Spencer decided to talk to him of all people? It was true many found him attractive but Aaron was old enough to be his father. It didn't feel as if Aaron had made a friend. Everything still felt dull. It was completely normal though, right?

He heads upstairs into the memory-filled bedroom. He was only going to shower. He couldn't stand sleeping in there. He hadn't for days. He was afraid that he would feel an illusion of Haley next to him. He walks into the room, then the bathroom. He prepares everything, relieved to use his own bath paraphernalia.

The shower is thoughtful. He would have to leave tomorrow. Thankfully he found a place downtown. It wasn't much but then again, it would be only him. He would have to buy furniture. He would have to buy appliances. Alone. For himself. It was depressing.

He gets out after a while. It was useless wallowing in thought but he had to at some point.

He puts on trousers and socks and grabs a blanket and a pillow to take downstairs. He decided he would sleep on the couch. And he does.

And he wakes up to his phone ringing. And he answers it. It's Mitchell; his boss. He has a new case in Virginia. Again.

But he had to pack and stop being a burden to Haley. And after that, follow the same routine for the next twenty years. At least he had a friend in Spencer. And he was already preparing for it to end so he'd inevitably be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It needs heavy editing I'm sorry


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter is way shorter than I usually write but I've been very busy lately. Happy Halloween! I cut it short so it would be 666 words oops, but it's hard to tell when the next update will be. It will be way longer than this update for sure, though.

"Hello, Spencer," Aaron answers his phone as he was just leaving his office. He still needed to save Spencer's number in his contacts.

"Hi. Good morning," Spencer replies. "I hope I'm not annoying you."

"Not at all. If this becomes a regular thing, I'll await your phone calls."

"Can this become a regular thing?" Spencer asks.

"I don't see why not."

"Great. I'll look forward to your voice everyday."

Aaron presses his lips into a thin line.

"I'm sorry," Spencer quickly rushes out. "That wasn't appropriate."

Aaron thought back at it. Why had he agreed to befriend Spencer? It would be awkward for them both. Spencer has an attraction towards him but the feeling is not reciprocated. He did enjoy the tour Spencer had given him, and Spencer seems nice to talk to. But if this continued, Aaron didn't think he could talk to Spencer.

Aaron huffed. "No, it's fine."

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know," Aaron answers. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound like a grumpy old man."

"No, no, you're totally fine, not in that way but-- I'll shut up."

Aaron can't help but laugh. Maybe this would be fun. Maybe Aaron had to stop being so serious all the time. It was true, he has a dry sense of humour, but perhaps Spencer could be a friend to share a few laughs with.

"Spencer, it's okay."

"Okay, I'm sorry."

"I have to go, I'm on my way to the airport, I'll call you later."

"Oh, that would be great. Bye, Aaron."

"Bye Spencer."

Click.

The drive to the airport, Aaron thought. Since he packed all of his belongings, which now we're in the back and trunk, should he take a go-bag to Virginia? Probably. Probably not.

As he parked, he agreed he would only take what he was wearing, which was a well ironed Armani suit. And of course the brief case he took to every case, updated with new files each time.

This case: a school board superintendent accused of murdering his wife and sexually harassing three fifth graders. Aaron was the prosecutor for the city of Richmond; The City of Richmond versus David Alcott.

It was rare when he had cases this big and busy. It would usually be a mother trying to save her son from going to prison, or a man trying to get custody over his son. He was nervous. But he was certain this would go their way. With enough evidence from forensics and the FBI, David Alcott will surely be sentenced to life in prison. Aaron had to put that information together immediately.

He arrives at the same airport he was at no more than twelve hours ago and parks his car in his respective parking spot; reserved just for him. He exits his vehicle, grabbing his briefcase before he shuts the door and locks it, putting the keys in his interior blazer pocket.

It was the same routine, nothing new except Aaron had something to think about this time. He was curious. How would it be like to actually move on? Sure, it had only been a couple of weeks since Haley left, but Aaron moved on quickly. All his life he had. He thought this would've been no exception except he really loved Haley. Really loved her. He wasn't upset at her for leaving. He was upset at himself. He always put family first and maybe that's why it's so hard to move on so fast. Maybe he should accept the hurting for a bit longer. It made him actually feel something. Not that he didn't before, but he just got so used to everything. And the change was what hit him hardest. Not having Haley, not having Jack.

He enters the airport and goes through security, just like always. Since this was a small airport meant for business, there was only a coffee maker for him to fuel up with. He decides to skip it today and waits.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first really committed fan fiction and I've been freaking out about it so I apologise if it's really bad.


End file.
